Kristy and the Prank Calls
by mcpon14
Summary: This story takes place entirely during one BSC meeting. Oneshot. Alternate universe. Alternate universe.


"It's 5:31. And you're LATE!"

That caught me by surprise. For a second there, I thought that it had been me that said that but then I spotted Abby sweeping her face across the room making sure that everybody saw that she was doing the Look.

Funny. I didn't remember hearing the noise of a straggler shuffling in just now.

"Who's late?" I asked.

"Abby was just joking," Mallory said.

The phone rang just then. It was on the floor two inches from my feet. I picked it up.

"Hello? Babysitter's Club," I said in a professional manner.

"Hello? Yes," the male person on the other end of the phone said. "I would like an order of a Western Bacon Cheeseburger, a large order of fried zucchinis and a large BLEEP."

When he loudly yelled out "bleep" in my ear, it made me immediately hang up because of how badly it startled me.

"Who was that?" Mary Anne asked, with her hand poised to write and with the club's record book opened on her lap.

"A goof call," I said. "It was probably Sam. Making one of those prank calls. I'll let you know after he lets me know later since he always wants credit for these."

"Any new business?" I asked. No one piped up with anything.

R-I-I-N-G.

Stacey grabbed it since it was on the desk of the chair that she was sitting in.

"Hello Babysitter's Club," she said brightly.

She asked Claudia for jotting-things-down material and received paper with a pastel pencil. She picked the receiver back up afterwards.

"Uh, hm. Uh, hm. Uh, huh. Uh, hm. Uh, hm," Stacey said while writing down what presumably she was being dictated.

We all peered in at the words she wrote:

Taco Salads, Famous Stars, Green Burritos on a plate

You and me, a combo for each, on a date.

"Wha-at," I was the first to speak..

"Why did you write that down, Stace?" asked Claudia.

"He said it was important. I could tell by his voice that the message was urgent."

"What was his name?" I asked.

"He, um, he didn't give one. I forgot to ask. Sorry guys, I should've been more careful. But it's just a poem. It's harmless."

"It's okay Stacey," I said.

Claudia patted her on the back.

"Wait a minute," said Mary Anne thinking. "The call was to Claudia's phone, so it was meant for her!"

It was contagious. Soon everybody's brains were hard at work trying to figure out why this poem was sent over Claudia's phone.

"Wait," I conjectured. "Trevor Sandbourne! Remember Claud? He wrote poetry for the school! I think he still has the hots for you."

"You think so?" Claudia screeched. "Hmm, but I don't like him anymore."

Claudia's shoulders slumped.

"Hmm. Maybe I should call him and find out," Claudia continued.

"Yeah, but use the downstairs' phone. We don't want to tie this one up. Clients might be trying to call in."

"Okay," Claudia replied and went downstairs.

* * *

After a time, Claudia reappeared at the door.

"No, he said . . . " Claudia trailed off, looking at my face since I was gawking at her.

"Um . . . why did you change your shirt?" I asked.

Everybody else then turned around to look at Claudia.

"I didn't . . ."

Claudia looked down and saw that she was wearing a t-shirt that had a logo on it that I've never seen before. The shirt had "Carl's Jr." written across it with a yellow star wearing a smiling face to its left. The letters were white, in cursive, with a ribbon underneath it with the words "Charbroiled burgers". The whole logo was outlined in red.

Then suddenly, I hear a woman's voice seemingly from the sky but certainly above, beyond and outside of the ceiling.

"Hey! Get out of here! Get away from my computer!" the woman yelled. "What did you do to my document?"

It was answered by a man's voice.

"Huh?"

"The cursor is not where I left it," she accused. "I'm going to sue you. You're an idiot! You guys should've just moved on and pitched your product-placement crap to another author! How did you get in here anyways?"

"Hmm," he commented.

Then we heard the quick clopping of shoes as the footsteps scuttled away fading with every step ending with the creaky opening and then slaming shut of a door.

There was a brief interlude of silence before we heard some walking followed by the sound of a butt plopping down on a chair and the creak of a seat being weighed down.

"Jeez," the woman said.

What followed was a period of mild indistinguishable noises.

After awhile we heard a click, then a momentary pause, then another click followed by a clack.

"Hey!" exclaimed Dawn, pointing with an eager finger.

We all turned to look. The "Carl's Jr." logo on Claudia's shirt was gone leaving the canvas of it entirely blank. What followed after that was another period of the same mild and indistinguishable noises as before.

After a while we heard the same sequence of sounds again: click, pause, click, clack. We didn't know where to look for the accompanying erasure. We started looking but stopped after we heard the clack-clack-clack noise of keyboard typing. It would stop then start, stop then start up again in short spurts of varying lengths. The typing went on for awhile then stopped entirely.

Then suddenly, I began hearing sniffling. I looked around and saw that it was from Mary Anne.

"What's wrong, Mary Anne?" I asked.

"Sta-Sta-cey started tear-ing up just now which cause-d me to tear up, too," she spluttered through her weeping.

"What happened, Stace?" Claudia asked concerned.

Stacey grabbed the poem that she had jotted down earlier and pointed to it.

"Oh," I said. "You're still gaga over that?"

"Oh, that poem was so sweet!" Mary Anne cut in.

"Yeah, Robert is a sweetheart," Stacey sniffled. "I just can't believe he did that though. It was SOO romantic."

Stacey turned to me.

"Kristy, I promise," Stacey began then paused and looked bewildered for a brief second before continuing, "again that he will never call over here during a BSC meeting ever again."

"Especially, to recite a poem to you over the phone. That's not an emergency. That's not important. He could've just given it to you tomorrow during lunch."

"Kristy," Mary Anne said giving me the oh-so familiar be-quiet-big-mouth Look.

Mary Anne then looked over at Stacey's poem paper and they both read it to themselves again in silence.

Stacey, my true love,

you soar in my heart like a dove.

Afterwards, they smiled to each other. Good grief, I thought.

I looked over at Claudia's clock. It said 5:59. I waited until the minute turned over to the next one.

"Meeting adjourned," I said.


End file.
